


Information Action Ratio

by sequence_fairy



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domesticity, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, Multi, Not an unusual amount of banter but there is some to be sure, Rope Bondage, This was meant to be a Christmas fic originally but here we are nearly a month late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: “She really tied one on, didn’t she?” Ryan mutters, as Shane’s hauling Sara back in. She’s giggling and stumbles into Shane, but she still manages to hear Ryan.“I’ll show you tied one on,” she says, which is a nonsense phrase, but, for some reason, it sticks in Ryan’s brain. He can feel it burrowing into his grey matter, wonders when it will come back and what it will bring with it.He decides, later, after they're all lying in a sweaty tangle, that it was the way she said it; eyes dark and knowing, certain of the way the remark would land.The one where Ryan wants to be tied up and Shane and Sara help him out with fulfilling that desire.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej/Sara Rubin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 79





	Information Action Ratio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mukemagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukemagic/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Jennie, and happy Shyanara Sunday to everyone else. 
> 
> Thanks to [Ember](http://emberglows.tumblr.com) and [Yesi](http://uneventfulhouses.tumblr.com) for the beta. You both make everything better <3
> 
> This fic started as the image of Ryan tied up with Christmas lights. It has become (slightly) more than that.

It starts, like most things of this nature, with a half-formed notion after several rounds at their preferred local watering hole. 

Sara’s leaning across the table to pass the basket of chips to Ryan, giving him the opportunity to have a look down the loose neck of her dress, which he takes. She’s not wearing a bra. She never does when it’s hot like this, and the yellow sundress she’s wearing is barely a dress. 

When Ryan picked them up earlier tonight, Sara’d been backlit for a brief second as she walked across the parking lot to his car. Ryan thinks he’ll probably be thinking about that image of her, haloed in the sun with the shadow of her body visible through the sheer fabric of her dress, when he falls asleep for weeks.

He’ll have to tell Shane about it later, once she’s left them to their never-ending Wii tennis rivalry and gone to try and sleep in the damp heat of her and Shane’s un-airconditioned apartment. Shane’s explained that California is hot, but it’s not nearly as bad as the swamp that Chicago turns into. At some point, it’s all just extremely uncomfortable in Ryan’s opinion, and that point was reached earlier this week and probably will continue to be made for the foreseeable future. Global warming’s a bitch.

When Sara sits back, she picks up her glass, stirring the straw against the ice in her drink before taking a sip. Her drink is a shocking colour of green and the sip she forced on Ryan earlier still lingers in the corners of his mouth, sour-sweet and wicked strong. A strap slips down one of her shoulders and Shane slides it back up, fingers lingering against her skin. Sara leans back in the booth. Her hair is piled up on top of her head, held there with too many bobby pins. She meets Ryan’s gaze over the rim of her glass. 

“What do you guys think we should do for the holidays?” Sara asks, àpropos of nothing. 

Shane’s mouth curves in an indulgent grin and he shrugs. “It’s July, babe.” 

“It’s just so hot,” Sara complains, plucking at the neckline of her dress to pull it out and away from her skin. She puts down her glass.

“Is it ever,” Ryan agrees, shameless in the way he ogles her across the table. 

Sara flushes prettily and waves her hand at him. “Why, Ryan, we’re in public,” she protests, like the kind of blushing debutante she has never been.

“All the better,” Shane says, leaning in to nuzzle at her neck. Ryan doesn’t need to see Shane’s hand to know from Sara’s shimmy that he’s slid his big palm up the inside of her thigh. The way Sara’s shoulders twitch say enough.

“Shane,” Sara hisses, but there’s a smile at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes slide closed and she tilts her head back. Shane catches Ryan’s gaze, and Ryan holds it. 

They’re in a bar, it’s a busy night, anyone could see them. The thrill of it makes Ryan’s body thrum. He shifts against the sudden tightness in his pants and Shane breaks their gaze. Ryan follows the turn of his head back to Sara, whose cheeks are pink. She takes a long, slow breath in, and lets it out with a soft sound that Ryan barely picks up over the noise around them. 

“Nightcap?” Ryan asks, and Sara nods. She slides out of the booth, more graceful than she ought to be, considering, and adjusts the fall of the skirt of her dress. 

“I’ll settle us,” she says, and disappears into the crowd.

Shane braces both hands against the table to push himself to his feet and Ryan’s gaze flicks down. Shane’s too fast for him, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts before Ryan can see. The wink Shane lobs in his direction is confirmation enough and Ryan throbs in his pants. Shane turns then to follow Sara and Ryan heads the other direction, out into the night.

He loiters on the sidewalk, waiting for the pair of them, but he doesn’t have to wait long. They emerge from the bar, Shane’s arm wrapped around Sara’s waist. Shane’s leaning down so he can whisper in her ear, and Ryan knows from the way she’s clutching at him that he’s telling her exactly what he’ll do to either - or both - of them later.

“Save some of that for when we get home, maybe,” Ryan suggests, when Shane and Sara get to within hearing range. 

“Feeling left out, Bergara?” Shane asks, completely unapologetic. 

“Be nice,” Sara admonishes, but she does set her hand on Ryan’s forearm and lift herself onto her toes to kiss Ryan on the cheek.

“You two,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t finish the thought because Shane’s suddenly in his space. Ryan shifts back a step and nearly topples off the sidewalk. Shane’s hand snaps out, quick as a whip, to grab him around one arm, fingers like a vice. 

“Jesus Christ,” Shane says, once Ryan’s steady on his feet again. “And you’re the DD tonight. Sar,” Shane turns to look at her. “Can you believe this?” 

Sara covers a laugh behind her hand as Ryan rolls his eyes. Shane’s hand slides off his arm, but he doesn’t step away, and instead, laces their fingers together. Shane’s palm is warm against Ryan’s, and Sara is still tucked up against Shane’s other side. It’s too hot to be standing this closely together, really, but they move as one down the sidewalk to Ryan’s car anyway. 

By the time they get there, Sara’s last drink has caught up with her and she’s dancing in and out of Shane’s reach, twirling as she goes, her skirt flaring out and showing off her milky thighs. Her head’s thrown back, and she looks like she hasn’t got a care in the world. Ryan’s almost sad when his car comes into view. 

“She really tied one on, didn’t she?” Ryan mutters, as Shane’s hauling Sara back in. She’s giggling and stumbles into Shane, but she still manages to hear Ryan. 

“I’ll show you tied one on,” she says, which is a nonsense phrase, but, for some reason, it sticks in Ryan’s brain. He can feel it burrowing into his grey matter, wonders when it will come back and what it will bring with it.

He decides, later, after they're all lying in a sweaty tangle, that it was the way she said it; eyes dark and knowing, certain of the way the remark would land. Shane continues drawing slightly sticky patterns on Sara’s stomach.

Ryan catches himself thinking about it again four weeks later when Shane pins his wrists to the bed, Sara watching with delighted satisfaction when Shane takes advantage of his longer than average reach to bend down and swallow Ryan whole. Ryan's entire awareness narrows to three points: the grip of Shane's hands around Ryan's wrists and the wet heat of Shane's mouth. There's nothing he can do, no warning he can give. 

Ryan comes hard, pushing against Shane's weight holding him down. The noise that rips out of Ryan startles everyone, most especially Ryan himself.

“Hunh,” says Shane, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he lifts his head. 

“Well,” Sara agrees, stretching herself all along Ryan’s side. 

“Yeah,” Ryan says. 

The niggling notion at the back of Ryan’s mind stays buried for just a little bit longer. 

===

Thanksgiving comes and goes, and it’s the beginning of December all of a sudden. 

Things have been busy for the three of them, and time has gotten away from them, so they’re sitting in the living room; Sara curled into one corner of the couch, Ryan’s toes shoved under her thighs while he stretches out across the rest of it, and Shane on the floor, head tilted back so he’s looking up at the ceiling. 

“We gotta figure out what we’re doing for the holidays,” Sara says. 

“We can go to my parents’,” Ryan offers, but it’s half-hearted. Last year had been an Event and none of them are really keen to repeat it. Ryan knows the gathering will be smaller this year, but neither Sara nor Shane have big families and it’s different for them to be among the crowds at Ryan’s childhood home. 

“Flying to Chicago is out,” Shane says, and Sara hums in agreement. They are, none of them, hurting for funds, but flying across the country and back during one of the busiest travel seasons of the year without planning ahead sufficiently is going to stretch the all-mighty budget in ways that it is not particularly elastic, and there’s a summer vacation to be saved for. 

Ryan wiggles his toes. Sara reaches down to curl her hand around his ankle. 

“Why don’t we stay here, then?” Sara suggests. “We could just have a holiday for the three of us, no travelling.” 

Shane turns his head towards her so Ryan can’t see his expression. “You wanna stay home with us old farts?” 

Ryan laughs. “Don’t know who you’re calling an old fart there, old man.” 

“I’d love nothing more,” Sara says, cutting in to stop Shane before he can get another jab in at Ryan’s expense.

“It’s settled then,” Shane says, and heaves himself up. Ryan watches him straighten, admires the long line of Shane, and meets Sara’s gaze when her grip on his ankle tightens. She’s looking, too. 

“Dinner?” Shane asks. “Or are you both going to lie there and stare at my ass some more?” 

“Shut up, Shane,” Sara grouses, and throws a couch pillow at his head as he walks towards where he’d left his phone in a pile of pocket detritus on the kitchen counter. 

===

Mid-way through the month, when LA is still hot and there is, as usual, zero chance that there will be snow for Christmas, Ryan meets Sara for a coffee in the late afternoon. Shane’s at home doing battle with the editing software, and even though he’s shut in the office, neither Ryan nor Sara want to bother him so they have both slipped out independently. 

> _wanna_ _get a coffee?_
> 
> **Yeah. the usual?**
> 
> _ Sure. gimme an hour. <3 _

Sara breezes in a little past the agreed upon time, several shopping bags heavier than she was when she left the house this afternoon. Ryan lifts a hand in greeting when he catches her searching gaze. 

“Whew,” Sara says, when she joins him at his table. He’d been working on a sponsorship pitch, but as soon as she’d come in, he’d closed his laptop. “It’s a madhouse out there.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I swear some lady was gonna fight me over a sweater.” 

“That I don’t believe for a second. Who would fight you over anything? One look at you, and they’d want to give you the world.” Ryan stands, and leans down to kiss her on the cheek. Sara tilts her face up and catches him on the mouth instead. She tastes like cinnamon. 

Ryan pulls away. “You’ve already had a coffee,” he chides, “and here I was, going to offer to get you one while you rested your weary feet.” 

“Get me one anyway,” Sara says, unzipping her coat, and shrugging it off onto the chairback behind her. 

“Bossy,” Ryan admonishes, but he’s already moving to the counter. 

He comes back with Sara’s London Fog and his own dark roast, to find that she’s ferreted his notepad out from under his laptop. She’s focused on whatever she’s drawing, gaze intent on the page in front of her. So much so, that she doesn’t hear him approaching and when he sets the tea down in front of her, she jumps. 

“Jeez,” she says, but she’s smiling. 

“So,” Ryan says, sitting down across from her. “I had an ulterior motive.” 

Sara sips her tea. “I figured as much.” 

“You remember that night in the summer? When you got real drunk?” 

Sara leans in. “You told me I really tied one on.” 

“I did,” Ryan confirms. He picks up his own coffee. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, and then drinks. The coffee is hot and perfect. Ryan loves this coffee shop. 

“That’s dangerous,” Sara says, wry. She lets the comment hang for a moment, then, “Thinking about what, Ryan?”

“A little while later,” Ryan says, “Shane held me down.” 

“Oh,” Sara says, and her eyes go unfocused for a moment, like she’s remembering. “Yeah,” she breathes, after a moment. “That was good.” 

“For me, too,” Ryan agrees.

Sara props her chin in her free hand. “What’re you getting at here?” 

“I want–” Ryan stops. It’s hard to say this out loud, weirdly. Thinking about it has been easy. Almost too easy. 

There were a couple of nights in the early fall when Sara and Shane had taken off for a quickie adventure to London, but Ryan hadn’t been able to get away, and he’d had a lot of free time to think about both his reaction to Sara’s comment and then subsequently, his reaction to Shane holding him down by the wrists. 

They’ve played power games now and again, the three of them, but usually it’s not Ryan under someone and the thought makes him hot all over, even sitting here in this coffee shop with jangly Christmas music playing over the stereo. 

Sara’s expression changes from interest to concern.

“I’m okay,” Ryan says, forestalling her question. He takes another swig of his coffee. It’s still brutally hot but he swallows it anyway. He looks down at the contents of his mug, and then back up at Sara. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why this is so hard.” 

“Take your time,” Sara says, then, “Would it help if I, like, wasn’t looking at you? Sometimes it’s easier to tell people things if you can’t see them. Like, how you can have really deep and meaningful conversations in the car.” 

Ryan loves her. He really does. “I– Maybe?” 

“Okay,” Sara says. She picks up her pen and goes back to drawing on the pad in front of her. Ryan looks down at what she’s drawing. It’s Shane. Or well, it will be Shane. Ryan can make out the impression of the high arc of Shane’s eyebrows, and the shape of his chin. She’s focused on what she’s doing, but Ryan still knows she’s listening.

“I think I want to be tied up,” Ryan says, quietly, directed at the top of Sara’s head. 

Sara’s pencil stops on the page, but she doesn’t look up. She goes back to sketching out the curve of Shane’s ear. “How d’you want to have that done?” 

Ryan leans back in his chair. That’s a good question. “Is that something you’d be into doing?” he asks, instead of answering. 

Sara sets her pencil down and looks up. Her eyes are clear and warm. She reaches for him across the table. Her hand on his is a comfort. “Let’s go home,” she says.

===

Shane’s sitting on the couch, ignoring a mid-series episode of  _ The Office _ on Netflix while he scrolls through his phone when Ryan and Sara come in through the front door. 

Shane looks up immediately and his whole face brightens. Warmth blooms in Ryan’s chest, and he squeezes Sara’s hand in his.

“Hey babe,” Sara says, letting Ryan’s hand go after giving him a squeeze back and breezing into the living room to drop a kiss on Shane’s upturned mouth. 

“Get that editing done?” Ryan asks, toeing off his shoes and padding across the living room. 

“All sorted,” Shane says. 

“Cool,” Ryan says. Nerves twang in his gut. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. Shane catches the movement and his gaze skips up to Ryan’s face. Shane’s brow furrows. 

“Is everything okay?” 

Ryan tries to catch Sara’s gaze, beseeching. She widens her eyes meaningfully. Shane swings his head to look between the two of them. 

“Okay, now I  _ know _ something is up.” 

“Shane, I–” Ryan starts, but his mouth dries up. 

“What’s going on, man? You look like you’re about to tell me someone died.”

“No, jeez,” Ryan says, “nothing like that. It’s just that I– Well, I’ve been wanting something.” 

Shane sits up straighter, attentiveness in every line of his body. There’s an eager light in his eyes. Sara turns from where she’s been fiddling with the line of holiday cards tucked in between the chair rail and the wall. 

“I really liked it when you held me down the other day,” Ryan offers, instead of coming straight out with it. Shane and Sara are both so forthright about this, and Ryan’s been learning to be better about it, but coming out and asking for exactly what he might be after is fraught. Ryan likes what his partners like, generally, and likes to make them feel good because that makes him feel good and, in turn, gets him off.

“I figured,” Shane says. “Do you want to do that again?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan breathes, “I really do.” 

“Okay, well that’s easy enough–” 

“Not just that though,” Ryan interrupts. Shane’s eyes widen a touch. Sara turns around fully. “I want–  _ Iwantobetiedup,” _ Ryan says, all in a rush. 

Shane blinks. Sara covers her smile with one hand. 

“You wanna try that in English, Ry-guy?” 

“You heard me,” Ryan says, crossing his arms over his chest, almost protectively. He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to quell the shiver of anxiety crawling up his spine. 

“I mean, I heard something.” Shane pushes himself to his feet. He reaches out for Sara who steps forward to take his outstretched hand. “Look, you know you can talk to us about anything, right?” 

“I know,” Ryan says. He looks down at the floor between his feet and then back up at Shane and Sara. 

“So, ask then,” Shane says, reaching his other hand out for Ryan.

Ryan takes a deep breath and takes Shane’s hand. “Tie me up, will you?” 

===

Days later, Shane crowds Ryan up against the wall, and Ryan goes, easy as pie. They’re home alone. Sara had left with a wink and an admonishment not to have too much fun without her. The door had barely shut before Shane was in Ryan’s space. 

“Is it a restraint thing?” Shane asks, in between kisses. One of his hands comes up to cup the side of Ryan’s face, the other pins one of Ryan’s wrists to the wall behind them. 

“Ah,” Ryan says, because Shane’s mouth has slid down to find the pulse point under Ryan’s ear and it’s hard to think, let alone talk, with the whole long warmth of Shane pressed up against Ryan’s front. 

Shane cages Ryan in and looks down at him. “Ryan?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan says, picking up the thread of Shane’s question even though he’d much rather think about the hard length of Shane pressing into his hip. Ryan licks his lips. Shane’s gaze flickers down and then back up. 

“Restraint doesn’t need ties,” Shane says, conversational, as he takes Ryan’s other wrist in hand and pins it against the wall too. Shane’s gaze is appraising. Ryan feels a little like the butterfly Shane has under glass, his heart beating frantically against his ribs, like it wants to escape. Shane’s grip is sure and strong, keeping Ryan in place. 

“I want it to,” Ryan says, pleased that his voice doesn’t come out entirely wrecked. A flush crawls up the back of his neck. 

“How do you want it?” Shane asks, nuzzling down the side of Ryan’s neck. 

Ryan tilts his head back, closing his eyes. “Don’t care,” he admits, “just wanna be tied up.” 

“Rope?” Shane’s voice is a low rumble against the shell of Ryan’s ear. 

“Sure,” Ryan says, straining against Shane’s weight. 

“One of my nice ties?” 

Ryan imagines the slither of silk around his wrists and his knees weaken. 

Obi chirps from somewhere around their ankles. 

Shane’s forehead drops to Ryan’s shoulder. “Great timing as ever,” Shane says, to the cat, and steps back from where he’s pressed up against Ryan. He keeps a hold of Ryan’s wrists. 

Ryan looks up at Shane. Shane’s eyes are dark; thoughtful. He lets go of Ryan and steps back completely. 

“I still–” Ryan starts, but Shane cuts him off by swooping in to press a swift kiss to Ryan’s mouth before he turns away entirely. 

Shane bends down to scoop Obi up, and turn the cat over in his arms until he’s carrying him like a ginger-furred baby with a tail, and wanders into the kitchen, cooing. Ryan sags against the wall and breathes in, deep, through his nose and then out. 

“He needs dinner,” Shane says, leaning out around the kitchen doorway. “Gimme a sec.” 

Trust the cat to interrupt them when things were getting interesting. Ryan pushes off from the wall. “I’m going to the bedroom,” he says, to the apartment at large. Shane hums in the kitchen and Ryan turns to go down the hall, peeling his shirt off as he goes. 

He’s only barely across the threshold before Shane’s crowded up against his back. “You’ve no right to be this hot,” Shane says, into the back of Ryan’s neck. “It should be a crime to insist that you wear a shirt and also one to allow you to go shirtless.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t ask, there’s no blood left in my brain.” Shane’s hands come up around Ryan’s arms, and Ryan turns. Shane pushes him down onto the bed. “God,” he says, after he’s settled in the vee of Ryan’s legs on his knees, “I can’t wait to get some rope on you.” 

“Thought about this, have you?” 

“Only every day since you asked,” Shane says, smoothing his hands down Ryan’s thighs. Shane’s palms are wide, his thumbs brush the inseam of Ryan’s jeans while his fingers skirt along the very outside seam. Ryan shifts, dick hard and pants much too tight.

“What have you thought about?” Ryan asks, as Shane leans down, mouthing against the cut of Ryan’s hips. 

Shane looks up at him. His hair is flopping down into his face and there’s a flush riding high on his cheeks. It’s devastating. “Oh, Ryan,” Shane says, gaze falling to the hard line of Ryan’s dick pushing against the zip of his jeans. “So many things.” 

“Tell me?” Ryan asks, though his voice cracks when Shane palms him, and then squeezes. 

“White rope,” Shane says, thumbing open the button of Ryan’s jeans. “Sara thought black, but I disagree.” Shane pulls down the zip of Ryan’s jeans and the release of pressure makes Ryan sigh, and arch his spine. 

Shane leans down to nuzzle Ryan’s dick through his shorts. Ryan shudders. 

“I’ve gotta see what the ropemarks look like,” Shane says, hooking the waistband of Ryan’s shorts with his fingers so he can pull them down along with Ryan’s jeans. “Your skin is made for them.” 

“Jesus,” Ryan says. 

“Think we’ll start nice and easy,” Shane continues, as if Ryan hadn’t interrupted. “Tie your wrists to the headboard, maybe?” Shane’s breath ghosts over the length of Ryan’s cock, and it twitches. Shane still hasn’t really touched him, but Ryan’s already teetering on the edge.

He wants the strain in his shoulders from his arms being pulled over his head, wants to feel the burn of the rope against his wrists, wants to see the marks from the rope against the thin skin there. 

“With your hands over your head like that, Sara could ride your face while I fuck you,” Shane says, and licks a stripe up Ryan’s dick. Ryan’s hips buck up, but Shane holds him down with the press of one forearm across the base of Ryan’s stomach. 

Static rises in Ryan’s brain in the wake of Shane’s tongue. The wet heat of Sara sitting on his face, her thighs around his ears, and Shane, fucking into him, slow and steady. All he’d be able to taste and smell would be Sara and all he’d be able to feel would be Shane. The thought of it makes Ryan’s blood heat further. 

“Make a proper little triangle out of us,” Shane says, mostly to himself. Ryan’s too far gone to respond, but Shane doesn’t seem to mind. He keeps right on going. “I’ll have to look up how to tie one of those harnesses, so I can haul you around a little.” 

Ryan moans. “Shane,” he grits out. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Touch me,” Ryan begs, looking down his body to where Shane’s still kneeling between his legs, hands splayed against his thighs. Ryan’s dick is flushed and hard, leaking at the tip. While Ryan watches, Shane reaches down to thumb at his slit, gathering the precome onto his fingers. Shane brings his hand up to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean. He maintains eye contact the whole time. 

“Come whenever you want,” Shane says, as if it doesn’t matter to him either way. 

“Fuck,” Ryan says.

“Could hogtie you,” Shane muses, drawing one finger down the shaft of Ryan’s dick. The finger pauses at the base before Shane gathers Ryan’s balls into his hand and caresses them, feather-light. Ryan’s strung tighter than a highwire, electricity zinging up his spine and then back down to bury itself just behind his dick, pressure building but there’s not enough to get it to release yet. 

“What about suspensions?” Shane asks. “Have you thought about those?”

“Suspensions?” Ryan’s voice is wrecked. He’d thought maybe Shane would be into tying Ryan’s hands to their bedposts, maybe getting a little creative with fucking him from behind while his wrists are tied, maybe the two of them would tie each of Ryan’s limbs down and take turns blowing him until Ryan was a sweaty mess. He had not thought that Shane would be into anything else. Ryan hisses a breath in through his teeth as Shane blows a stream of air onto the heated flesh of his dick.

“I wonder if we can put a hook in the ceiling.” Shane looks up. “Maybe not.” 

“Shane, please,” Ryan says. “I need–I need–”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Shane asks. 

“More,” Ryan says, but it comes out as more of a whine than anything else. 

“More, what?” 

“ _ Shane _ .” 

Shane wraps one long-fingered hand around Ryan and pulls. 

“Oh, God,” Ryan breathes, “I’m gonna–” 

“Yeah,” Shane agrees, “you are.” 

Ryan comes so hard he sees stars. He barely feels the second set of hot stripes on his skin but when he comes back to himself, Shane’s flopped over beside him on the bed, and Ryan’s belly is tacky with drying jizz. 

“Ugh,” Ryan says, drawing a finger through it. “You’re gross.” 

“You love me,” Shane says, but he pushes himself up off the bed. 

“Don’t remind me,” Ryan gripes, accepting the ragged shirt Shane hands down to him. 

“So,” Shane says, after Ryan cleans himself up. Ryan tosses the balled up shirt into the hamper with a  _ sotto voce _ ‘Kobe!’ and looks over at where Shane is leaning against his dresser, still nude. 

“So,” Ryan echoes. 

“The three of us should talk about how to make this happen for you,” Shane says, scratching at his belly absently. 

“Think you’re both doing a good job of it already,” Ryan answers. 

“Oh?” One of Shane’s eyebrows ticks up. 

“No–I mean, like, you’ve both been really, I dunno, supportive?” Ryan sits up, letting his feet drop down to the floor. He looks up at Shane. 

“Of course, Ryan,” Shane says. “That’s kind of what this whole being in a relationship thing is about, in case you hadn’t noticed.” 

“I’m just really glad that neither of you, like, made it weird.” 

“Why would we make it weird?” 

Ryan frowns. “Not everyone is, like, into doing this sort of thing.” 

Shane’s brow furrows. “Of course they’re not. The world would be boring if everyone were into the same things.” 

“I guess,” Ryan hedges. 

Shane moves to sit beside him on the bed and drops one large hand on Ryan’s nearest shoulder. “I’m sorry someone made you feel like you couldn’t share what you were into.” 

For a moment, Ryan wants to shrug off the contact and the sentiment, but something warm cracks open in his chest at Shane’s words, spilling out into the spaces between his ribs. Instead of trying to pass off the moment, Ryan lets the silence grow between them and reaches up to lace his fingers with Shane’s.

===

“Do we need a safeword for this?” 

“Everything I’ve read online says we should,” Sara says, leaning over the table to grab the butter sitting next to Ryan’s plate. 

Shane turns to Ryan, who is shoveling pancakes into his face like it might be the last time he gets to eat them. In his defence, the pancakes are really good. “What do you think?” 

Ryan swallows his mouthful, and sets down his fork. “I’m not sure a Norms is the place to sort this out?” 

“Why not?” Sara asks, buttering her toast with quick slashes of her knife. She makes a show of looking around. It’s a week ‘til Christmas; the restaurant is packed and loud. No one is paying any attention to them. Sara smears jam on her toast. “So. Safe word?” 

“Uh,” Ryan says. He looks around desperately for inspiration. “Pancakes.” 

“Pancakes it is!” Shane crows. A family of five looks over at them from two tables away, wide-eyed. Shane slouches down further into his chair. Sara snorts delicately into her forkful of eggs.

The waitress comes by with coffee refills and all three of them hand up their mugs at once. 

“Alright,” Sara says, as they’re crossing the parking lot towards their car after breakfast. “Safe word chosen. Anything else you want us to know before we, you know, try stuff?” 

Shane lopes ahead of them to unlock the doors. Ryan climbs in after him, and Sara settles in the backseat. 

“I don’t think so,” Ryan says, rubbing at his forehead under the brim of his hat. He lifts it up and off, scrubs a hand through his hair and then resettles it on his head. 

“Okay,” Shane says, and starts the car.

Later, Ryan will worry that was too easy. 

  
  


=== 

It’s Sara and Ryan’s date night, but since Shane’s working late and still at the office, they’ve opted to stay in. In the corner of the room the Christmas tree twinkles. Its soft glow is the perfect lighting for Sara’s skin. 

“You look so good like this,” Ryan says, hands coming up to hold Sara’s hips while she rides him in a slow grind. She’s buried her hands in her own hair and is biting her lip. The carpet beneath Ryan’s back is a little prickly, but he’s happy to ignore it for as long as it takes Sara to shudder apart on top of him. 

Ryan trails the fingers of one hand across the front of her hip, pressing in against the base of her stomach, like he wants to feel himself inside her before sliding down to where they’re joined. Ryan’s fingers find Sara’s clit and he circles it, with just this side of too much pressure. Sara stiffens briefly, clenching around him, her breath shivering out of her in a hiss. 

“Fuck,” she says, dropping forward to press her hands flat against Ryan’s chest. The change in angle makes them both groan and with her newfound leverage, Sara picks up the pace. Ryan keeps one hand between them, letting Sara rub against his fingers, and sweeps the other one up the line of her spine, until his hand is spread against the back of her neck. 

Ryan squeezes gently, and Sara shudders. She moans, cutting herself off by biting her lip. 

“Wanna hear you,” Ryan says, drawing his legs up to plant his feet so he can fuck up into her as she’s rolling down. 

“Shi- _ ah! _ ” Sara’s hips buck and her hands flex, nails digging into the meat of Ryan’s chest. “Oh, Ryan, yeah, I’m there, I’m there, fuck, c’mon.” 

Ryan has always prided himself on taking instruction well. He keeps one hand between her thighs but goes back to holding her hip with the other, helping her hold onto the rhythm she keeps losing. She’s so close, tightening around him and her thighs trembling where they’re spread over his hips. 

“That’s it,” Ryan says, “c’mon baby girl, do it for me.” 

“Ry–!” Sara sucks in a breath, her eyes widen and then she’s gone. The tight clutch of her body is heavenly, and the rush of wet between them makes Ryan groan beneath her. Sara keeps right on going, fucking herself on Ryan’s dick all the way through her orgasm and out the other side. 

“You’re so wet,” Ryan groans, and Sara grins down at him. A flush rides high on her cheeks, and spills down her chest. 

“Gonna come, baby?” 

Ryan taps Sara on the hip. He will, but he wants to get real deep. Some lizard brained part of him wants her to feel it into tomorrow and when she’s this wet, there’s only one way to do that. “Up, I wanna do something.” 

Sara lifts off, leaving Ryan’s dick glistening wet and laying, heavy, on his stomach. Sara reaches out to drag one finger down the length of him. Ryan shudders. Sara leans down like she’s going to suck him off and Ryan reaches out, stopping her. 

“No?”

Ryan pushes himself up to sitting. “Not tonight,” he says. “Wanna fuck you into the floor.” 

Sara shivers and her mouth curves into a wicked grin. Ryan leans in to kiss her, threading his hands through her hair. He pushes her down onto her back and follows her over, not breaking the kiss. Reaching between them, he slides his fingers through her wet heat, making her gasp into his mouth. Then he’s sliding home. Sara welcomes him with a long sigh and lifts her hips to meet him. 

Ryan keeps his hand between them, hoping to get her over the edge again before he comes. Sara’s legs come up, wrapping tightly around his hips, and she reaches up for his shoulders, pulling him down onto her. 

Kisses turn to sharing breaths, then turn to faces pressed cheek to cheek and Ryan comes, driving Sara over the edge again with him. They shake apart in each other’s arms.

After, dozing on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, Ryan traces Sara’s shoulder with the fingers of one hand. The soft glow from the lights on the tree lends itself to her, softening everything the same way twilight does. Ryan wonders if he could capture this, but settles for trying to catalogue it for his own memory. 

Sara props herself up on her elbow to look down at him. Ryan lets his hand fall as she moves. “You know,” she says, reaching out to smooth the pads of her fingers across his brow. “You look so lovely like this.” 

“Sweaty and covered in come?” 

Sara snorts. “No,” she says, after a moment. “In the, like, glow of the Christmas lights, you know?.” 

“Oh,” Ryan says, pleased by the compliment. “Well, you too. I can see them in your eyes.”

Sara ducks her head. She presses a kiss to Ryan’s shoulder. “Stay there,” she says, “I have an idea.” 

Ryan waits by the soft light of the Christmas tree. 

In another room, he can hear the muffled sounds of Sara rummaging for something in one of the closets. After a while, she lets out a triumphant noise and wanders back into the living room. 

“I knew we had more of these,” she says, from behind the box she’s carrying. Ryan pushes himself up onto his elbows. Sara sets the box down on the coffee table and opens it up. She’s pulled on one of Shane’s shirts, and it hangs down to the tops of her thighs. 

She reaches in and draws out a string of Christmas lights. They’re the old style, multi-coloured kind, relegated to the box of old Christmas stuff when Shane and Sara had given up their old, unlighted artificial tree. Their current one came pre-lit, so they’ve never needed the extra strands. 

“Come and help me,” Sara says. 

Ryan sits up and hunts for the pair of soft sweats he’d been wearing earlier that evening. He pulls them on and kneels beside the coffee table, next to Sara. She looks down at him briefly, before handing him the tangled string of lights. 

Ryan sits back to untangle them, working carefully so as not to break any of the bulbs. “Why do you still have these?” 

“Thought we might want them for something,” Sara says. “I used to hang them up in my bedroom before I lived with Shane. They’re kinda pretty.” 

Sara pulls out another string of lights and sits on the couch to untangle hers. 

They work in silence until both strings are back in order once again. 

“Do you wanna see if they work?” Ryan asks, reaching out for the plug end of Sara’s lights. 

“Yeah, plug them in.” Sara hands Ryan her string of lights and stands. “I’ll be right back.” 

Ryan takes the lights and shifts over to the power bar next to the couch. He plugs in his strand first, and the lights come on in his hands. They’re immediately gently warm, and the colours remind him of being a kid, staring at the Christmas lights on the tree for hours. For a moment, he sits there with the string of lights in his hands, just looking down at the multi-coloured lights, then he starts to check through them. They clack together as he makes sure they’re all lit. 

Satisfied that his string is completely lit, he plugs Sara’s string into the next receptacle. The glow in Ryan’s hands intensifies. 

Sara comes back, and she’s got one of their cameras in her hands, an older DSLR that she favours over the newer one Shane picked up a couple of years ago. 

Ryan looks up at her. 

“I thought, maybe–” Sara sets the camera down on the coffee table. “You looked so pretty earlier in the lights, I wanted to take pictures.” 

“Oh,” Ryan says, and looks down at the lights in his hands. “I–sure?” Ryan holds up the bunch of lights and smiles. 

Sara grins, but she doesn’t pick up the camera. “Not those kind of pictures,” she says, leaning down to pluck one string of lights from Ryan’s hands. “Hold still.” 

In the end, they don’t get that many pictures because the lights get hot fast, and then they’re uncomfortable to have wrapped around bare skin. Ryan especially likes the set he takes of the lights spilling over Sara’s outstretched arms, the glow of the lights making her eyes sparkle and with her mouth open in soft wonder. There’s also one of her, nude, no lights visible in the shot, but the different coloured glow of them visible against her skin. Behind her, in soft focus, the Christmas tree lends a cheery holiday spirit to the inherent eroticism of the topless photo. 

Sara, on the other hand, takes a lot of pictures of the strands of lights wrapped tight but not too tight around Ryan’s wrists and up his arms. She takes pictures of his hands, pictures of his whole upper body, turned away from the camera, a string of lights wrapped loosely around his throat and dangling down the length of his spine. 

When they’re done, Ryan’s hard and aching. Sara sets the camera down, and pushes him back onto the floor. He comes quick, toes curling as she sucks him off. When she pulls away, she looks up at him, and Ryan frames his hands like the viewfinder of a camera. 

“That’s the money shot,” he says, as Sara licks her lips. Ryan’s completely wrung out now. 

“We should pick some of these for Shane.”

“Yeah, okay, tomorrow though.” Ryan heaves himself to his feet, pulling the drawstring of his sweats tight once he gets to standing. He reaches down for Sara and pulls her to her feet. 

Before they stumble into bed, Sara packs the strings of lights away and Ryan carries the box back to the spare room. 

===

“Merry Christmas,” Sara says, as she drops a package in Shane’s lap on Christmas morning. She kisses him on the top of the head.

The three of them are, once again, lounging in the living room, Christmas tree lit and coffees in hand. 

Shane looks down at the strangely shaped package. “What’s this?” 

“Open it and find out, why don’t you?” Sara suggests, reclaiming her spot in the corner of their sectional. She draws her knees up so she can rest her head on them while Shane opens his gift. 

Ryan watches over the rim of his own mug of coffee. Sara is a line of warmth against his side.

“I thought we said no presents,” Shane says to Sara, but he dutifully starts picking open the paper carefully. “Oh- _ ho _ , what’s this?” Shane holds up a bundle of rope. It’s white, looks to be a synthetic blend and slithers pleasingly through Shane’s hands as he turns the bundle over in his lap.

Sara grins, wicked and pleased. Ryan catches her eye and then looks over at Shane and feels the kick of heat in his gut at the way Shane’s looking at him, contemplative and determined.

“The internet says–” 

“What does the internet know about rope bondage?” Ryan wants to know. 

“A lot,” Sara says, and Shane nods. “The subreddit was really informative.” 

“The subreddit?” 

“Did you think we were going to do this without research? Ol’ Research Bergara over there, thought we were gonna tie him up without finding out how to do so safely?” Shane shifts on the couch so that he can poke Sara in the calf. 

“Of course we wanted to be safe,” Sara says, smoothing her hand across Ryan’s shoulder. Her palm is warm through his shirt.

“I guess I just thought it was gonna be like, I dunno, tying my wrists to the headboard, or something?” Ryan says, circling his wrist with the fingers of one hand. “I didn’t realise it was a whole thing?” 

“It doesn’t have to be a whole thing,” Sara says, careful. 

“No, no, I’m happy for it be a whole entire thing,” Ryan hurries to assuage. 

“Well,” Shane says, dropping the rope into Ryan’s lap. “That’s good. Because it’s going to be.” 

===

They’d decided to put a pin in trying to do this on Christmas Day, but Boxing Day offers a prime target for some pre-planned banging. They all don’t have anywhere to be and have slept in late, then spent the morning quietly in each other’s company.

“It’s Boxing Day bondage time!” Shane sing-songs when he gets out of his mid-afternoon shower, hair damp and clinging to the back of his neck. Sara and Ryan look up from where they are stretched out on the couch, Sara’s head pillowed on Ryan’s stomach. 

“Is it?” 

“Yeah, lazy-asses, get up. Let’s go. I want to see what this looks like against all of that skin,” Shane says, waving the bundle of rope at them. 

Sara slides off Ryan to her feet and reaches down to pull Ryan up after her. 

“Do I need a shower too?” Ryan asks, plucking his shirt out from his chest. 

Sara leans in to give him a good sniff. “No, you’ll do.” 

“Day’s a-wastin’,” Shane says, and hustles them both down the hall and into the bedroom. 

Sara gets naked with alacrity, and bounces onto the bed, shifting back towards the pillows so Ryan can get in between her thighs. 

“Get her warmed up for me,” Shane says, when Ryan looks back at him. “I have rope to attend to.” 

Ryan dives in like Sara’s his favourite meal. She moans, and squeezes his head between her thighs, until Ryan gets his hands on her and spreads them out and down, pinning her to the bed. Distantly, he can hear Shane behind him doing something, but he doesn’t turn around again to find out. 

One of Sara’s hands threads into Ryan’s hair, to pull his face more firmly against her. She rolls her hips, and Ryan lets go with one hand so that he can slide a finger into her, to give her something to clench around.

“Just there,” she says, and Ryan obliges. Sara’s panting now, breathy little moans of sound.

“She’s so easy for you,” Shane says, from right behind Ryan’s ear. “Can’t get enough of watching you like that,” Shane continues, sliding his hand up Ryan’s spine, until he reaches the back of his neck, where he squeezes gently. Ryan feels the touch in a zip of electricity that goes all the way to his toes. 

“How’s it, Sar?” Shane asks, and gets a shuddering moan in response when Ryan crooks his fingers inside her. Ryan swears he can hear Shane’s smile. 

“He’s so good at this,” Sara says, breathless. 

The praise, as usual, goes to Ryan’s head. It makes him warm all over, knowing he can make Sara feel so good she’s barely able to speak.

“Okay,” Shane says, once Sara’s chest is heaving and she’s trembling with every one of Ryan’s touches. Ryan lifts off, but keeps idly circling Sara’s clit with his fingers. 

“God,” Sara moans, “I’m so close.” 

“Keep yourself there,” Shane says, “I need both of Ryan’s hands.” 

In the interim, Shane’s gotten nearly naked himself, stripped down to his boxer briefs. He holds out the length of rope. 

Sara shifts over, and replaces Ryan’s fingers with her own. 

“Hands up,” Shane says to Ryan. 

The first touch of the rope around Ryan’s wrists makes him shiver. Shane binds him, first one wrist, then the other, then lashes his wrists together before tying them off to the headboard. 

“Good that we already had a metal headboard,” Shane says, looming over Ryan to check his knots. “Safeword?” he says, looking down at Ryan. Ryan shivers again, hardly able to help himself. 

“Pancakes,” he says and Shane pulls the last knot tight.

The gentle bite of the rope in Ryan’s wrists zings up through his arms and Ryan tugs against the restraint. The headboard creaks, but the knots hold. 

“Come and help me with this,” Shane says to Sara. They tug down Ryan’s shorts together, freeing him to the air of the bedroom. Ryan lifts his hips up to help them slide them off his legs and then he looks down. 

Sara and Shane between his knees is a view he has seen before, but one he will never get used to. Sara licks her lips and waits for neither of them. She leans in and swallows Ryan whole. Ryan arches, pulling on the bonds around his wrists. The restraints hold, limiting how much he can move. Shane restrains him further, two big hands, one on each thigh. Sara bobs her head, bringing her hand up to cover the length of his shaft, as she tongues around the head. 

She slides down again, laving a hot line against his dick and Ryan feels Shane right there with her. It’s nearly too much. Ryan presses his head back into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Jesus,” he says, through gritted teeth. 

“You ready for me?” Sara asks, when she lifts her head. Shane keeps on sucking and licking, making Ryan squirm. 

“Yeah,” Ryan says, “oky.” 

Sara taps Shane’s shoulder and Shane moves out of the way. Sara straddles Ryan, sinking down over him inch by torturous inch, until he’s fully sheathed within her. Shane hooks his chin over Sara’s shoulder and thumbs at her nipples while she rocks on Ryan, clearly in no hurry. Every time Shane’s fingers pinch tight around her nipples, she clenches inside, and Ryan hisses. 

Shane whispers something in Sara’s ear and her mouth drops open, wide and surprised. “Oh yeah,” she says, low and wrecked, “do it.”

Shane slides off the bed to get something from their box of goodies that lives pushed under the dresser. When Shane comes back, he’s popped the cap on a bottle of lube and is pouring it out onto his fingers.

Soon enough, Ryan gets the picture, when Shane’s fingers wrap around Ryan’s dick where it’s disappearing into Sara. Shane squeezes gently around Ryan’s dick, making Ryan’s hips jump, then his fingers slide away. Sara shudders and bites her lip. 

Ryan wants to reach up to smooth his hands down Sara’s thighs to soothe her. Sara rocks back against Shane’s hand, and then Ryan can feel him too, sliding inside her ass. Sara’s head tips back, and she stills, trembling, between them. 

“You okay?” Ryan asks. 

Sara nods. “Give me another,” she says to Shane, and then cries out at the same time that Ryan grunts as Sara rocks down onto him firmly. 

“God, fuck,” Shane swears, and uses his free hand to hold Sara’s hip. She turns to kiss him, and it’s sloppy. Ryan watches, straining. 

“Yeah,” she says, after another moment. “Yeah, c’mon Shane, three.” 

Shane gets another finger into Sara’s ass, and now Ryan can really feel him. Sara’s still holding herself still, but she shifts, restless, as Ryan cants his hips a little, seeking something more. Sara moans as Shane’s fingers slide in and out, always careful. 

It’s nearly torture for Ryan, to hold himself still while Sara rocks against Shane’s hand. Ryan feels the moment Shane’s fingers slip all the way out. Sara shudders, hard, and grinds down on Ryan. 

“Okay?” Shane asks, and Sara nods. Shane’s clean hand grips her hip, and then he’s lining up and sinking in and Ryan and Sara moan in tandem. 

“Fuck,” Ryan gasps. He can feel the length of Shane the whole way in, and the clutch of Sara’s cunt around his dick tightens. “Jesus  _ Christ _ .” 

Sara’s gone to wordless sounds, rocking between them, like she can’t get enough. 

“I’m gonna move,” Shane says, and Ryan is gratified to hear the strain in Shane’s voice. 

“Please, baby, c’mon,” Sara pants. 

Shane moves and Ryan can’t help but move too. 

Sara cries out, hands flattening against Ryan’s chest and spine bowing. 

“Holy shit,” Shane breathes. 

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees, fucking up into Sara, who sobs out a moan. He can’t imagine what it feels like for her, both of them inside her. Ryan knows that anytime they put him in the middle, he never lasts, and Sara’s probably not going to either, by the way he can feel her, already fluttering around him.

“I’m gonna–” Sara says, and then she’s shaking apart, her voice giving out entirely. 

“Shit,” Ryan says, because he’s right there too. Sara rides him through her orgasm, with Shane at her back and Ryan loses it. The headboard creaks ominously as Ryan pulls on the bonds, before going boneless beneath Sara. 

“Oh, me too,” Shane says, looking sort of surprised. Ryan watches as Shane’s face goes slack with pleasure. 

They collapse into a heap only briefly because Shane’s somehow the one who has kept his faculties and he pushes himself up off of Sara after only a moment and pulls out. Sara hisses, and Ryan slides out as she shifts. 

“Oh!” she says, and then she’s rolling up and off him, headed towards the bathroom after Shane. 

“Hey, guys?” Ryan calls out, “you know, I’m kind of stuck here?” 

“You’re fine,” Shane says, from the bathroom. There’s the sound of running water and then Shane comes back, and wipes Ryan up, before departing again, still without untying him.

“Guys?” 

“Relax,” Sara says, padding back into the bedroom. She’s carrying a pair of scissors. She gets up on the bed, kneeling near Ryan’s head. She’s wearing one of Ryan’s shirts and it rides up as she leans over him, offering Ryan a view of her still glistening pussy. Ryan’s spent, completely, but his blood still warms with phantom heat at the sight. 

Sara and her scissors make quick work of the knot holding Ryan’s wrists over his head and she draws them down carefully. 

“Oooo,” Ryan says, wincing. 

“Just another minute,” Sara says, and snips away the binding on each wrist. She tosses the scissors onto their dresser and then goes to rub Ryan’s shoulders, small hands firm against his over-worked muscles. Ryan rubs his own wrists. 

“Wait,” Sara says, “let me see.” 

Ryan holds up his wrists for her to see. The rope has left red lines against his skin. Sara’s eyes widen. 

“Do they hurt?” Before Ryan can answer, Sara yells over her shoulder to Shane. “Bring the arnica gel, would you?” 

Shane wanders back into the room, tosses Sara a tube of something and then pulls on his pajama pants before settling down on the bed on Ryan’s other side. 

“Are you alright?” Shane asks, while Sara rubs the cooling gel onto one wrist and then the other. 

“Yeah,” Ryan says, “I’m good.” Post-orgasm stupor is beginning to rise in his blood, and all Ryan wants to do now is sleep for a solid couple of hours. He yawns, so hard his jaw cracks. 

===

“Are we debriefing sex now?”

“I think we should,” Sara says, drawing her knee up so she can rest her foot flat against the seat of the kitchen chair she’s sitting on. 

“I’m giving the whole thing a ten out of ten,” Ryan says. 

Shane curls his hands around his coffee mug. “Do you want to do it again?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan says. 

“Okay,” Sara says, and sips her coffee. 

===

They give Shane prints of the pictures they took for his birthday. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please come and chat with me about my fic on [tumblr](http://sequencefairy.tumblr.com) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/warpspeed_chic).


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